Sight in the dark
by xSlashable
Summary: Something made El come back, he didn't knew what, but something tolt him too do so. Than he finds a man he didn't expect to be there. Please R&R written by SueAnneSparrow and xDarkChocolate.
1. Faithless

**This is written by Sue-AnneSparrow and Me-Loves-Orli, hope ye like!**

**It's sort of a crossover with Dawn of the Dead, but because none of the characters from Dawn of the Dead will be in this story, we're just posting it under OUATIM fics.

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**Chapter one  
Faithless**

There was something he couldn't quite picture, something foggy. There was something that made him come back. He didn't knew what precisely, but his conscience screamed: '_help him!_' So, there he was, walking into the city, while the sun was setting. Looking at the red horizon he continued his walk through the deserted streets.

Questioned he looked up at the sky, "Santa Maria, why did I have to come back here? In a matter of hours Cartels will be trashing this city, trying to find any clues to discover who made this coup. I don't want to be around then." He sighed, when he didn't receive an answer, not that he'd expected one. He continued walking back into the city again.

It wasn't a nice sight. All the joy of the festival was gone, replaced by many deaths. He turned his head away fast, when he saw a little girl laying on the street, her eyes were turned wide open to the sky, as if she'd been asking god why he had let this happen to her.

It was something he himself asked a lot lately, why did the good and honest people had to suffer for what the bad did. But then again, since the day his Carolina and their daughter had been killed he started to lose his faith in God.

The smell of dried blood hung in the air and he fastened his walk. He tried not to think about the many parents, brothers, sisters, children, who'd come home finding there beloved hadn't returned yet.

He walked away from the bodies and walked into a dark alley. He stopped walking when he saw a trail of blood. He kneeled down and noticed it wasn't dry yet, that meant the victim was still close by. He shook his head and stood up. He stared at the long trail of blood, whoever the victim was, the person had lost a lot of blood and must be in horrible pain.

Slowly he started walking along the trail of red liquid. He had to find out whether he could help the person at the other end. All of a sudden the trail seemed to become more of a small line and in the end it disappeared entirely. He looked around confused and frowned. 'How can this be?' He asked himself, 'whoever it was can't just have stopped bleeding.'

Suddenly he heard a soft moan, like a cry for help. El turned around, behind him stood nothing more that a large container standing in the shadows, probably used for the restaurant's trash. Then his eyes started to accustom to the darkness and he saw a slim figure laying against the container. He hurried over to the shivering figure.

It was still to dark to see everything, but his eyes widened when he saw the pile of blood surrounding the poor person. "Señor?" A little scared, because of the looks of the man he kneeled down besides the figure and noticed the person was a man, from about his age, much of his face was covered by a large pair of sunglasses, still it wasn't hard to see the pain on the mans face.

El raised his hand and touched the forehead of the man and jerked back. The man was burning from fever, "Señor?" He placed his hand on the man's shoulder. The man let out a desperate cry and tried to crawl away from him again.

"No mueva a señor," he whispered, "Yo le obtendré fuera de aquí." He placed his hand under the man's head and pulled him up gently. The man winced and tried to get out of his grip.

"I don't... want to get away..." He whispered slowly, it was clear how hard it was for the man to speak, "you have no idea... how this feels..." he pointed at his glasses. Now El saw that the man's face was covert with fresh blood, blood that was still dripping from his chin to the ground, "you want to help... me... shoot me... end this... for the love of god."

"No si señor," El stammered a little frightened by the man's reaction. Sure he was in a great deal of pain, but bullet holes weren't that dreadful, he was the living proof of that. He saw the man's body ease and could catch him before the man could hit the wall. Immediately his hand connected with the sticky crimson liquid, "Ai, he's in an even worse condition then I thought."

He placed his hand palm in the back of the man's neck and grabbed him around the waist.

He pulled the man up and saw the blood mix with his shirt. "After this I can throw this thing away," he mumbled. Feeling a little sick, realising blood was slowly covering his chest.

He started to walk the way back, he saw the trail of blood again, but his time he was walking away from it.

Back in the light he assured the man, "Todo sera bien señ-" He'd looked down at the body he was carrying along. He stopped walking and stared at the unconscious man in his arms. The first thing that he thought was: 'Throw him down, walk away and don't look back.'

In his arms he was holding agent Sands. The reason for the coup in the first place. The kind of man that made Mexico fall into pieces. The man that would kill anything, if it would make profit for him. The kind of man not worth living, El looked at the street. 'Why not drop him right here?'

He was just about to do so, but something stopped him, a tiny voice.

"Save him."

Confused he looked up to the sky, not knowing where the voice had come from. 'Why? He doesn't deserve to live.' He bended down and laid the shivering man down on the dusty path.

When Sands' head connected with the ground he jolted up and cried out, "God make it stop!"

El bit his lip. Why was he still here? He asked himself, he could just turn around and walk away now. Run even. This was what the man deserved, why would he care?

"Please…" The agent started again. "Let it stop!"

El watched the sight breathless. Before him lied a tortured soul. A man who would die if he wouldn't do something. He closed his eyes and made a choice, he would not let this man die.

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**Please review, we wanna know what you thought of this first chapter!**

**Here the translations of the Spanish used:**

**Todo será bien - Evrerything will be alright  
No mueva a señor – Don't move sir  
Yo le obtendré fuera de aquí – I will get you out of here**


	2. La Guitarra

**Thanks for all the reviews! Don't give me all the credit for this story, without our bless Sue-AnneSparrow, there wouldn't even be a story!

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**Chapter two  
La Guitarra**

Why was everything around him so soft? And, the more important question, why couldn't he remember where he was? He tried to open his eyes, but realised he couldn't. For some weird reason his whole face felt different, as if not his own. He tried to turn around, but could only move a couple of inches before a pain shot through his body.

He moaned and tried to remember where he was. Fresh memories started to return. It was like looking at a photo album, the only difference was all of these photographs were made out of his point of view. He saw how drastic his live had changed over the days. He saw the image of a mummy.

"Barillo..." he whispered, but the image faded quickly, while a new one appeared, he saw the biggest slut of the world, Ajedrez. But this photo also faded and was replaced by that of a dentist. His breathing speeded up and his muscles tensed. He knew what was going to happen and yet seeing the drill, made him jump.

Pain shot through his head and all the images faded away at once. He cursed, not wanting the images to go away, that would mean it was all true, that would mean it hadn't just been a bad dream. 'No, No please, don't go!' He thought about the words as hard as he could, as if that would bring the images back. A soft moan escaped his lips. He tried to get up, or at least to get the pain to disappear. Suddenly warm hands touched his shoulders. He jerked backwards at the touch and his breathing started to become more and more tense.

"Stay calm, it's okay..." A familiar voice said. He raised his head slowly. Who's voice was that again? It was a low voice, with a heavy accent. It sounded very melodious and warm. But the voice wasn't the only thing that sounded familiar, the jingling of some sort of chains he recognised too. 'God damn it! Why can't I see!' His head started to hurt badly again. Slowly he rested back on the soft material again. His body relaxed a bit, only to prevent the pain from becoming worse.

He noticed he couldn't remember everything from the past day, some parts were completely blank.

"It's okay," the voice said again. He started to feel nauseous and fuzzy at the same time. It was like he was falling back to sleep again and that didn't even sounded to bad. Yeah, if he just slept, everything would be back to normal. A relieved smile covered his face. "It's okay..." as the voice spoke he became more relaxed. But suddenly a warm hand was placed on his shoulder.

Without even consider an alternative he jerked up and crawled as far away from the hands as he could.

"Don't… fucking touch… me!" He howled, terrified of the sound of his own voice. Sick he leaned against the cold wall, what felt rather good, since his body felt hot from fever.

"Stay calm," the voice spoke, but he didn't. He had no idea where he was and felt rather uncomfortable and disorientated. "Try to relax." The voice moved closer and his breathing started to speed up again. "Ssstt… No need to panic, no si" He pressed himself tighter against the wall "It's okay, lay back down" Hands connected with his shoulders again.

_Strong hands pushed him down and he was forced to lay back He felt cold, probably because of the cold metal got placed on 'What the fuck!' His whole vision was blurry He heard someone laugh. It wasn't a cheerful laugh, more like that typical Dr. Frankenstein laugh A shiver ran through his body. He was going to freak out right now…_

"Stay away from me!" He said terrified, he whished he could just get away from this place, wherever he was.

Two hand grabbed his shoulders and pushed him down. He let out a cry when he laid back on the soft material He was stuck, he realised. Stuck and vulnerable.

"No, let me go!" He yelled, skipping a few tones With all the power he had left he tried to twist his shoulders out of the firm grip But it was hopeless, the hands were much stronger than he was at the moment.

He let himself slid back on the soft material "Please let me go."

God how much he hated to sounds so fucking weak But he didn't gave a fuck, all he wanted was to get away from the hands.

"I let you go, if you promise not to try to get away again, si?" The voice grunted very close by.

He had used almost all his energy and nodded slowly "Si."

"Good." The hands let him go. Fast he shifted to the wall, as far away from the voice as he could.

"Who the hell are you!" He snapped, hoping to sounds dangerous. "And why am I here!"

The voice let out a low laugh. "So many questions. You first sleep, then we talk." Footsteps just like jingling chains walked away from him. He frowned. Whoever it was, was fucking with him. How dares that fuck-shit hold back information!

There was the sound of a guitar and a song started. Carefully he listened to the notes. It was a very beautiful song, very fast, but not to childish like.

He knew that song, where had he heard it before? He tried to remember. He felt so hopeless, not knowing where he was, who that man was and how he had ended up here. He concentrated on the song again. All of a sudden he remembered something, he wasn't sure, something about a bar. He tried to think of why he would've heard this song in a bar. _Something my brother taught me._ He heard a voice say in his head, it was the voice of the man. _I killed him._

Where did he hear that god damn song before! He tried to remember. He felt hopeless. Why was it so god damn hard just to remember who played that fucking song! Or why he was here? And who was that fuck-shit with that annoying piece of wood, playing like …

'A Mariachi.'

"El Mariachi…"

**TBC!

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**We both agreed Sands was very awww in this chapter! Please review! We need your opinion!**


	3. Past Midnight

**We are sorry it took us so long to update! But finally, here's chapter 3!  
****And we both agree that Sands is still his psychopathic self, we love him that way!  
****We'll update sooner next time, if school isn't a bitch…!**

**Chapter 3) After Midnight**

The hours passed. His hated guest had fallen asleep. El had been sitting in the windowsill and was playing his beloved guitar ever since. Stroking the snares, letting the wind play with his sticky hair he looked through the open window. Mexico in all it's glory laid before him. Lights from houses filled with families seemed to be the reflections of the stars above. In silence, letting his hand guide the music he looked at his country.

The bells of the local church clanged and he played a false note. He sighted and angrily stared at the clock. Four past midnight. The clock seemed to be fast, since the bells told him it was twelve. He stood up, placed his guitar in the case and set it against the wall of the rented room.

'Let's call it a night.' He walked passed the couch and took off his shirt, tossing it next to him on the floor. He sat down and felt around, but couldn't find a pillow. Grumbling he stood up and walked to the other side when he hit his knee against the bed and cursed under his breath. 'Why did I give him all the pillows?'

Walking around the bed he grabbed a pillow. Suddenly the body on the bed tensed and El pulled his hand back. He frowned. "Sands? Are you awake?" He reached out and touched the man's shoulder.

Suddenly Sands flicked, he sat up straight and El looked right into a gun barrel.

"Get back you motherfucker!" The agents voice was low and deadly. El's eyes shot wide open as he realised a psygopathic killer was about to shoot him and he himself had no gun or any other weapon to defend himself.

"Sands?" He paused. "You don't want to be doing this."

"Damn, right!" He switched the gun from safety in just one movement, aimed a little bit further to the right. A firm smile appeared on his face. "Say bye bye."

El jumped away as Sands fired, and again and again. El heard the breaking of class and figured the window was shot to pieces. After firing another four bullets he stopped, dropped the gun and fell back in the bed. Panting he started to laugh, a very insane laugh.

El shook his tangled hair behind his ears and pushed himself up. He wiped away the pieces of splintered wood and looked at the remaining parts of a small table. Angrily he turned to Sands, who was still laughing.

"What was that all about!" He yelled, not caring what the people next door would think. 'Not that it matters much, after hearing gunshots no-one will dare to bother us.'

Sands stopped laughing and 'looked' at El. In the moonlight his face looked even paler and his sunglasses sank a bit from his nose, leaving good view into the hollow eye sockets.

"Seriously El, do you ever pay attention to you environment?" He asked cocky, almost as self-assured as normally.

El grunted as answer and looked to the wall facing Sands. Five shoots were in the middle, one went right through the window and the others were in the wooden floor. His eyebrows went up.

"What where you aiming at?"

Something in Sands face changed. El couldn't place it, it was a mixture of fear and shock and the man was trying hard to hide it.

"Those son of a bitches!" He clacked his tongue. "Pumping me full of drugs, fucking hallucinations." He smirked. "Even saw my granny with a chainsaw, got to say that scares the shit out of people." He laughed blankly and took a deep breath.

El didn't say anything, he only stared at the agent, not knowing what to thing of the situation. Of course it was reasonable to believe Sands was still under the influents of drugs. But he had learned, reasons had nothing to do with Sands.

Still he nodded, even when he knew the agent couldn't see him. "I want my pillow."

Sands looked up. "Does it have your name on it!"

'Might be, you will never no. You blind psycho.' But he didn't say it out loud, it was far passed discussion time. "Just give it to me and go to sleep!"

With aversionSands handed over one of the pillows and made a annoyed gesture. "Taking from a wounded, you should be ashamed of yourself El."

El opened his mouth to answer, stopped, grabbed the pillow and walked off leaving the blind man alone with his demons.

He laid down and listened to the sounds of the night. He heard cars in the distance, some people screaming, others hushing them. Then he realised the church bells where clanging again. It was 10 minutes for half one. Something was not right.

He shrugged, stood up and closed the window, it was late and with Sands around he needed his sleep. He would think about church bells in the morning.

Exhausted he let himself fall down on the bed, not bothered by the noise of his hated roommate.

**Like we promised, we'll try to update asap, but ONLY IF YOU REVIEW!  
****So, no pressure there…  
****Ohw, btw, SANDS ROCKS! YAY!**


	4. Behind Blue Eyes

**We beg on our knees for forgiveniss, its been so long. But finaly we're totally Sands opsessed again! YAY to the blind guy!!!**

_Chapter 4) Behind blue eyes._

His head felt empty, hollow. And it was, he was missing something. His sight, a great part of him, was gone. It was not just the shock of the hurt and horrifying pain. It was to be hit by reality again. He was nothing now. He lost control, because he lost his gift to look people in the eyes and know exactly what they thought and what needed to be said. Everything… became useless. It was as if he was caged in a nightmare of darkness, never to wake up.

He forgot the feeling of warmth and eventually even the feeling of cold. He lived in a trance, the only thing from keeping day and night separate were the images that hunted him when he was asleep. The images that would fade away the moment he awoke, replaced by the everlasting darkness.

The only thing that seemed real was El. The Mariachi he despised so became the only real thing around him. The reality seemed to be melted into his enemy. And it hurt him. Not that the Mariachi was cruel or hurtful towards him, not it was much worse. El treated him like a wounded puppy. Making sure he ate enough, tended his wounds, making sure he wouldn't do anything stupid. And he wanted to do something stupid, something incredible stupid. Because what did he have left?His head felt empty, hollow. And it was, he was missing something. His sight, a part of him seemed to been going. It was not just the shock of the hurt and horrifying pain. It was to hit reality again. He was nothing. He lost control. Because he lost his gift to look people in the eyes and to know exactly what they thought. Everything… became useless. It was as if he was caged in a nightmare of darkness and never woke up.

He forgot the feeling of warmth and eventually even forgot the feeling of cold. He lived in a trance, the only thing from keeping day and night separate where the images that hunted him when he was asleep. The images that would fade away the moment he awoke, replaced by a everlasting darkness.

But off course he didn't say anything to the Mariachi. He tried to ignore the man as much as possible. He didn't want this man to see how hurt and broken he actually was. All he wanted was… to disappear. Run away from the invisible things that were chasing him.

The only think that seemed real was El. The Mariachi he despite so become the only real thing. The reality seemed to be melted into his enemy. And it hurt him. Not that the Mariachi was cruel or hurtful on him, no it was much more worse. He treated him like a wounded puppy. Making sure he ate enough, tended his wounds, making sure he would do anything stupid. And he wanted to do something stupid,

something incredible stupid. Because what did he left?

But off course he didn't say anything to the Mariachi. He tried to ignore the man as much as possible. He didn't want this man to see how hurt and broken he was. All he wanted was… to disappear. Run from the invisible thing that where chasing hem.

The question that had haunted him most of all was, why would anybody – especially someone like El – be willing to take care of him? He didn't do anything God would approve with, only things He would despair. He didn't deserve live. Not even this one.

"Are you awake?"

Yes, that was a question he was asking himself too. He raised his head a bit, showing he was awake. He didn't want to talk, afraid what his voice would sound like. Afraid what he would say. And breaking down in front of your enemy was just not an option. Not yet.

"Good, you need to eat something." El said.

He shook his head, in silent protest. He didn't want food. He didn't want El to feed him like a child. All he wanted was to sleep, never to wake up again.

"You need to eat something. You need to get your strength back up." El continued. "Else it might take very long to recover completely."

"Why would you care, I'm your enemy, fucker." He said softly. "Betrayed you, left you to die. A real man would have shot me."

"I can't see any honour in killing a wounded man."

"Blind and useless you mean." Sands sneered. El said nothing, which to Sands, what answer enough.

He didn't want to move, but still he sat up straight, just to make sure he still could. He didn't want to let El see how helpless he actually was. He felt everything around him spin, but didn't care to take notice of it. He wanted to escape this place as soon as possible.

"Here, you have to drink something." He was given a glass and noticed again how hard it was for him to keep some control over the situation. He was given a glass, but had no idea what was inside this glass. For all he knew it could be poison. That didn't sound to bad and he put the glass to his lips and drank. It was water, just plain water. The fluid ran down his throat and he noticed how thirsty he had been. El stopped him from drinking all the water.

"You shouldn't drink it all in one go, you're not used to it. You could get sick."

"I am sick already El, I don't fucking care. Getting sicker than this is hardly possible, fuckwit." He swallowed the last bit of water and handed out the glass. It cost him some power, but he at least wanted to be able to act like he was strong. El took the glass without saying anything and walked away.

'To what? Get a gun and finally get it over with?' He thought, almost hoping the Mariachi would feel pity for him. Slowly he sat back against the wall, facing the door as if he was watching. Then he realised his gun was gone. He was unarmed and completely vulnerable. On the other side, El probably wasn't going to hurt him. If he wanted to he would have done that already.

Finally, after several days of fear and doubt Sands allowed himself to relax. His muscles eased and he took a long deep breath. He wiped the sweat of his forehead with trembling hands.

'Strange,' he thought, feeling the sudden tension in his body. Suddenly he started to feel sick, nauseous. A headache started to come up. He wanted to make the feeling go away, but didn't dare to touch his face.

The headache didn't got less, it started to increase. Pain shot through his head like lightning, making him shock and jolt backwards. He wanted to scream, yell out of fear, what was happening? But he couldn't get a word out of his throat. Suddenly the pain got so bad, he was sure his skull would split open. He gasped for breath and fell off the bed, landing forwards on his knees.

"God! What the hell in happening to me?!" He howled weak, filled with horror. This pain felt even worse then the drill! There was no way of stopping it. It was all inside his head, this pain… this burning killing pain…

With both hands he grabbed his head, not caring what he would feel like. "God, make it stop! No, not again!" He snapped his head from side to side and gave in to the pain, burning his brain. Powerless he fell down to the ground, heavily breathing. Trying to figure out what to do.

All of a sudden all the pain stopped. He slowly dared to move again. The temperature in the room had dropped obviously, that he felt immediately. He pulled himself up again and tried to hear anything. He heard nothing though, but he knew something was happening around him. Just like he had known there was something in the glass El had given him, but couldn't see _what_. It turned out to be water… but could have been poison.

On that moment, his heart skipped a beat as he looked to see his surroundings turn an unusual shade of blue. He didn't see the room, but most definitely saw something. He heard a voice, but again, he didn't hear it. It was as if the voice was in his head. He couldn't figure out whether this voice was real or wasn't. Whispered words, which he couldn't place. It must be some sort of Latin. He turned his head a little, still scared the pain would come back. Almost immediately after that, he jumped back, hitting the bed. A few feet from him stood a dark shadow, almost as dark as the rest of his environment, but clear enough to see.

It was just like the time in the ally, a few moment before El became being the hero. Back then he was wounded and didn't want to believe in the thing hiding in the shadows, watching every breath he took. And the same thing he had seen a few nights ago, back then he had tried to kill it. Back than, he had had a gun… He stared at the thing in front of him and the worse part was, it stared right back. It could see him, better than he could see this thing.

Shivers ran down his spine as the thing made a small movement. Fast he grabbed the edges of the bed and pushed himself up, still looking at the dark figure. Why was he seeing this? It just couldn't be real, could it? He was blind and blind people couldn't see. Not even weird dark figures. He turned away and looked right into to bright blue eyes. He saw it al so clear in front of him, that he couldn't even imagine it being fake.

He stepped backwards and felt like he was being surrounded by these strange figures. Another and another appeared, non of them spoke a word. Non of them made any sound whatsoever. He was standing back against the wall, trying to understand what the hell was happening. What did these figures want from him? He surely couldn't _talk_ his way out of this. Or could he?

Suddenly the largest thing opened his mouth. And as if the sounds had to travel, the scream came. The horrible sound of the thing screeched into his soul. The last of the warmth left disappeared. It got even colder. He let his body slide down the wall and just stared at the things that became more and more real every moment.

The first shadow stepped towards him, the damp cold was all around him. Sands gave a scream and tried to flee, but was to late. The thing grabbed his right wrist. Ten thousand frozen needles stung in his arm, his very blood ran cold. Spreading up his upper arm, into his head and soon into his whole body.

He tried to breath, but failed. His body felt numb from cold. It was frozen and his throat was closed. Half choking he stared into the light blue eyes. No emotions were visible. Like there wouldn't have been in his own eyes… The thing released his wrist and the screaming stopped. The blue eyes started to fade and soon there was nothing more than the darkest black to keep him company.

**Review, please! D**


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